


Finding You

by prosodiical



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Amusement Parks, F/M, Fake Dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-19 06:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5956500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosodiical/pseuds/prosodiical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey and Kylo Ren muddle their way into a relationship. It helps that he's half in love with her already.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [La_Matrona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/La_Matrona/gifts).



There's an informant here, or so Leia said - but Rey's pretty sure it's just an excuse.

Kylo Ren's hand on her elbow is hesitant enough to make her want to roll her eyes, and she sighs a breath through her teeth and grabs him, her fingers curling around his wrist. "Rey," he starts to say, but Rey's had enough, knows that while this mission is hardly critical the real reason they're here is the distance between her and Ren since he defected.

The problem, Rey thinks, is him. He strides through the Resistance base like he owns it but for the whirlwind of emotion she can sense through the Force, attached to him like a cloak. They've passed each other in the halls and when she bites back an insult he can't seem to stop staring at her, like she's some strange anomaly he never expected, and whatever she was going to say dissipates into nothing. The Force stretches between them like a rubber band, Rey thinks - just waiting to snap.

"Don't forget why we're here," Rey says, instead of _why are you even here?_ or _what do you want with me?_ Ren's a head taller and years older than her but she thinks the stubborn cant to his generous mouth makes him seem barely a teenager again.

" _I_ don't need reminding," he grits through his teeth, and Rey raises her eyebrows and gives him her best, most insincere smile.

"Come on, dear," she says, and bats her eyelashes, feeling a more genuine swell of excitement as they near the gates of the ticket booth. She can see the mechanical rides rising into the air even from here, the bright colours and swell of noise, music and laughter lifting her spirits despite the dark cloud attached to her arm. "Let's go."

The tickets cost more credits than Rey thinks is really necessary, but it's on the Resistance's dime so she shoves down the thought that it's enough for food for a month. Everything is wonderful, dyed and bright and joyous like there's nothing at all wrong in the galaxy, and Rey closes her eyes for a second, reaches for the Force, and lets her worries melt away.

When she looks up again Ren, too quickly, looks away. 

It feels like he's looking at her all the time, though she never quite catches him at it; she can't help but be distracted by the business of rides and games, the noise of conversation and laughter. She breaks their silence to point out a prize at a stall, a giant plush of a Wookie that, if she squints, could almost look like Chewie; she thinks she catches the lift of his mouth, a short quiet laugh stalled in his chest that he doesn't know how to let out. "Come on," she says, impulsively, and tugs his arm to the stall, toy blaster guns and prize slips hidden in balloons, "let's try it."

He looks bewildered, stubborn, until she says, "I bet I can do better than you."

"Let's see about that," he scoffs, and she grins, the thrill of competition lighting her blood as they hand in their tokens, as he's handed his gun. The weight of it must be off, Rey thinks, because the look in the stall-owner's eye is familiar, and sure enough Ren's first shot glances off. He grits his teeth, gives Rey a sideways look, and Rey raises her eyebrows; his next shot hits but glances off, and only the final time he manages to pop a balloon.

When he passes the blaster to her it's with a competitive gleam in his eyes, and he says, "I doubt you could do better."

"Oh?" says Rey, and hefts the blaster, feels the weight of it in her hands. "I'll win. After all," she says, and winks at him, grinning, as she shoots for the first target and _reaches_ \- "I'm not afraid to cheat."

She pops all three balloons she aims at, and the stall owner gives her a shifty look that Rey meets with innocence and wide eyes. "I want that one," she says, and tugs on Ren's arm, just for show; "you'll carry it for me, won't you?"

Ren grumbles at the Wookie, and then it's a ring-throwing stand with a shelf full of cheap figurines; Ren starts cheating too, nudges of the Force that feel - lighter than Rey's ever felt before, like laughter bubbling in her chest, and soon it's less of a fight than a game they're both angling to win. They stack up a small General Organa and a old-style Stormtrooper, and then at a game of darts it's a bantha and a loth-cat, soft and fluffy, looking adorable in Ren's increasingly burdened arms. Rey picks up a stick of cotton candy which feels like an indulgence, airy sugar melting in her mouth, and eyes another game and wonders how much Ren will carry; he stops, a stubborn edge to his mouth, and says, "No more."

Rey pouts at him, half for show, the other half something she doesn't want to examine. "One more?"

He raises his eyes to the sky, and Rey follows his gaze, and then remembers why they're here. "Oh, fine," she says, "I wanted to go on some rides." She stuffs a handful of cotton candy into his mouth when he opens it to speak, and herds him along to the observation wheel; she's not thinking of the edge of pink sugar on the corner of his lips, she's _not_.

Their informant meets them in the line near the front, bumps into Rey and slips a datachip in her pocket. They're close enough to the ride that it'd be strange to leave so they're shuffled into old-fashioned carts, rickety mechanics Rey wants to oil into perfection, and when Rey looks at Ren, he's looking back.

He's always looking back, and Rey feels a rush of something that feels like confidence, bright and strange. "You've got," she starts, as he says, awkwardly, "I don't want you to think - " and she laughs, an odd growing delight in her chest. "Go on," she says, leaning forward, and he stares at her wide-eyed, like she's something he never expected, stutters:

"I - what - " and Rey closes the inches between them and kisses him.

He stills. His mouth opens under hers, in surprise she can feel echoing through the Force, but she pushes her advantage; he tastes of sugar and something nebulous she can't pin down as she leans further in, presses her hand to the back of his neck as his own fingers flutter on her arms, so gently like he thinks she might break. When she pulls away he still looks shell-shocked, stunned, pupils large in his eyes, and she smiles. "You just - had something," she says, teasingly light, and brings her thumb to the corner of his mouth; he huffs a laugh, a flush high on his cheeks, and she thinks she can see a smile.

"I never can predict you," he says, but there's too much staggered wonder in it for Rey to feel like it's an insult as she shifts away. "No - " he says, and reaches for her before he realises; Rey grabs his hand before it falls to his side, and says,

"So what were you saying?"

"I," he starts, and stares at her fingers, interlaced with his own. His hands dwarf hers, small and roughened from years of work, but he looks at her like she's precious, and Rey - can't hate him, not anymore. "I dodn't want you to think I hate you," he says, with a self-deprecating smile, "I - actually."

His words falter, and Rey searches his expression and thinks she knows what he's trying to say. "The Force," she says, "it's about balance. Here," and she presses her hand to his chest, fingers splayed. "Can't you feel it?"

"Because of you," he says, and then looks embarrassed he said it at all; Rey can't be, though, because he's projecting just enough. _He loves me,_ she thinks, and knows it's true; she kisses him again, warm and inviting, and feels the swell of emotion again that means she might, too.


End file.
